


Offer Up Your Daughters

by fireflyeskies



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyeskies/pseuds/fireflyeskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Carmilla drabbles and short fics. Pretty much all pairings from hollstein to laferry and everything in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

_1\. Introduction_

Carmilla has seen war and poverty and disease and every other hideous facet of humanity in her long, long life. But none of it, none at all compares to the stress of finally meeting Laura’s father.

She’s spent the past few months hearing all about the man, from his borderline obsessive protectiveness over his daughter (evident in the fact that their dorm room plays host to an amateur armoury stashed beneath Laura’s bed) to Laura’s multitudes of stories about what it was like growing up.

From the one and only childhood camping trip that she was allowed to go on (which unfortunately ended in a sprained wrist and her father almost having a heart attack when it happened) to wistful stories of all the things Laura always wanted to do but never could. School trips she missed out on “just in case” or people she was never allowed to be friends with because her dad deemed them to be too dangerous or too much of a bad influence.

That isn’t to say Laura always listened to what her father told her, Carmilla's also heard plenty of tales about all the times that Laura didn’t do what she was supposed to. The times she convinced her dad that she was out studying at the library when in actual fact she was going to see some awful horror movie with a friend. The nights in spent sneaking out to see her one and only high school girlfriend because she just _knew_ her dad would disapprove.

Which in hindsight, is just a little bit hilarious because here she is years later and dating a vampire. Three guesses for just how much daddy would approve of that one.

So in short Carmilla knows all about the man by now and while she’s well aware of his overbearing tendencies and how much Laura really struggled growing up, she also knows just how much she loves her dad and how she’s missed him in the months away.

So when on afternoon she asks Carmilla home with her for Christmas break with hopeful eyes and that wide smile that Carmilla just knows she’s _never_ going to be able to resist, she says yes without even thinking.

Carmilla would never admit that she’s nervous about meeting Laura’s dad finally but it’s hardly every day that you introduce your three hundred year old vampire girlfriend to your father. Not that the man is _ever_ going to be told about those two particular details if Carmilla can help it. So Carmilla really thinks that she can at least be forgiven for the way her hands are shaking just a touch and how Laura has been wittering on about something for the past ten minutes and Carmilla hasn’t heard a word of it.

They’re walking side by side down a series of uniform of streets that all look the same that Laura instinctively knows how to navigate on their way to the home she hasn’t seen since August. She’s practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect Carmilla can tell, she’s been chirping away happily about all of the things they’re going to do over the break since she dragged Carmilla out of bed at six am that morning.

Carmilla, who is patently _not_ a morning person had to physically restrain herself from saying something grumpy and ruining Laura’s mood until the sun was up and she’d gulped down her second mug of black coffee. In truth she’s really just happy to see Laura so enthusiastic about something for once. The semester has taken it’s toll on everyone and if anybody deserves two weeks of relaxing and not worrying about the week’s latest crisis it’s Laura Hollis.

Carmilla finally pulls her consciousness back to earth when she realises they’ve come to a stop before what she assumes is Laura’s house. She’s not scared. Really she isn’t, just…apprehensive. Yeah that’s it apprehensive. Even after three hundred years of life Carmilla can’t recall there having ever been many times she’s had to face the parents. In all honesty she isn’t too sure what she’ll do if it turns out the Laura’s father doesn’t like her. Laura insists that of course he’ll like her, ever the optimist. But Carmilla can’t help but consider the worst.

When a man practically twice as tall as his daughter and built like a battering ram opens the door and Laura squeals immediately throwing herself into his arms Carmilla begins to contemplate just disappearing into a puff of smoke then and there. But when Laura finally detaches herself and turns to Carmilla with the biggest, goofiest grin she’s seen in a while she knows she isn’t going anywhere.

There’s a tense of moment of silence then before Laura reaches for Carmilla’s hand and that grin seem to grow even wider “And this is Carmilla” she says and Carmilla wonders if her father can also almost _feel_ the giddiness radiating from Laura’s every word.

“So it is” he says, all stoic demeanour and calculating eyes as he pretty much sizes her up before something somewhere must have convinced him that she’s worthy of at least _trying_ to earn his favour. “Pleased to meet you Carmilla” he says much more warmly and sticks out one hand to grasp hers in a firm handshake and then pulls her into a hug that, while not quite so warm and all-consuming as the one bestowed on Laura, is still enough to give Carmilla cause to hope.

When she pulls back Laura is beaming at the two of them and Carmilla’s pretty sure that both she and Laura’s dad just about melt at the sight of it. The day is looking up, she already has one thing in common with the man, they’re both powerless in the face of tiny little Laura Hollis and that smile.


	2. Complicated

_2\. Complicated_

Their arrangement is complicated sometimes. Not all of the time, generally the three of them keep things held together just fine. Laura splitting her time between her two girlfriends equally, her afternoons with Danny grabbing coffee after class and her nights (and early mornings) with Carmilla curled up in bed together in the dark hours. Danny and Carmilla for the most part just ignore one another’s existence but on the odd occasion that they are forced into contact they both adopt a perfect mask of overly polite, slightly disaffected civility.

Both swear blind that they don’t care what the other does when they’re with Laura, or ever for that matter. And they never ask. The complications come when the jealousy starts.

They never expected the jealousy, neither Danny nor Carmilla, but in hindsight they really should have because it actually makes sense. Danny’s significant over-protective streak should be hint enough that she also has a hidden possessive streak somewhere too. And Carmilla? Well Carmilla has never made any secret of the fact that she doesn’t play well with others who play with her things. Not, that she would _ever_ have the audacity to so much as consider Laura as hers, and not just because Laura would probably stake her for it.

Neither ever thought that jealousy would mix itself up in the muddle that is their relationship. But it does.

It starts out with little things like date nights clashing with one another or cutting remarks from Carmilla whenever Danny comes round. But it isn’t long before things escalate. Danny starts returning the comments, which means Carmilla’s only get worse and worse. They get childish anytime they’re in the same room together, battling it out in some ridiculous game of one-upmanship.

Danny will make some sly dig at Carmilla about her brooding vampire ways and Carmilla will pointedly do something in response, play with Laura’s hair or run the backs of her knuckles feather light up and down her neck. A move that simultaneously has Laura shivering and tempted to just throw them both out of a window and have done with it.

Danny will press a kiss to her cheek so Carmilla has to go one better and pull her into a kiss flush on the lips in retaliation. The part of Laura that is dictated by her libido, the part that still can’t quite believe that she’s dating two unfairly hot girls is actually enjoying the attention that comes as a result of the whole thing. But the inner feminist in Laura, the part that is adamant that she is a person not a damn trophy or a piece of meat is furious at their stupid little game.

Eventually it starts to get out of hand, Danny and Carmilla are incapable of being in the same room together without whipping out a stake or a set of fangs. Danny’s taken to leaving hickeys on flushed skin where no one else can see them, there only for Carmilla to find. The look on Carmilla’s face when she finds a mark at the base of Laura’s throat the first time is practically feral and it’s in moments like these that Laura can actually _see_ the vampire coming out to play.

Fangs peeking out from beneath kiss-swollen red lips, eyes clouded over in a medley of lust and fury. If it weren’t for the fact that Laura was also pinned beneath said vampire, fingers tangled tight in Carmilla’s hair and hips begging for relief, she might’ve been angry at the overt show of possessiveness.

Carmilla says nothing but runs one thumb over the mark soft as a whisper before slipping the same hand lower and lower to stir her hips into an even higher frenzy. With a grin that is all teeth and promises of a very, very long night ahead she dips her head to lave her tongue over the mark before getting to work on a crimsoning mark all of her own above the first. Any and all misgivings that Laura may have had are lost as those sinful fingers and mouth work up a fever pitch that has her shattering like brittle glass within minutes.

Laura forgets all about the marks, the pinks and reds painted up and down her neck, across her collarbone, down her chest and hidden away on the insides of her thighs. Forgets about them until she sees Lafontaine trying (and failing) to muffle a chuckle at the patch of skin above the collar of her shirt one morning. Until Perry has to elbow Lafontaine sharp in the side and then drag them out of the room before they can utter the teasing remark that Perry just knows was on the tip of their tongue amongst the grinning and giggling. Until later that day and she catches Danny staring at the same expanse of skin with a snarled up frown that could rival any of Carmilla’s best vamp grins.

It’s at this point that Laura decides that enough is enough. Something’s got to give. This petty, childish and frankly demeaning behaviour has gone on entirely too long. Either differences are going to have to be set aside, or they’re going to have to rethink this whole arrangement into something else.

 


	3. Making History

_3\. Making History_

Mother tells her that they are making history together. She says that the things that they do, the places all over the world that they’ve visited, the people they’ve met (met, murdered, eaten it’s all the same) is all a part of the dance. The two of them forging their own legacies in this world.

Every glittering ball that mother presents her at, often as little more than a shiny bauble to make mother that much shinier in turn, are all a part of their grand game. The thrill of a hunt that ends in the shine of fresh blood on lips and hands, feasts that go on for days and the sheer intoxicating hedonism of it all is just what they do.

Any misgivings Carmilla ever had about her new life after death slipped away quickly. Mother said that they were writing their own history, and that history is always written by the victors. There is no room for failure at mother’s side. There never was.

Carmilla would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy it all. It doesn’t take long at all to forget that naïve eighteen year old daughter of an Austrian nobleman. That girl has no place in this new life that mother has forged for the both of them, that girl knew nothing. If only she could see herself now.

Carmilla tries oh so very hard to please mother, not only because the punishment for failure is steep but because she also knows that the reward for a job well done is a terrible addiction like nothing else.

Carmilla has nothing overly _bad_ to say of her family per se but having grown up the middle child of five siblings with no particular talents nor obvious gift for anything, she was often overlooked. Never quite as pretty as her older sister, never quite so charming as her younger brother and always shunted to the side by mama and papa.

So the first time mother gives her that cloyingly sweet smile and praises her for doing so well, Carmilla knows she’s sold. Hook line and sinker.

They go hunting together, mother gliding through a gilded ballroom with Carmilla on her arm blushing and smiling handsomely at every passing noble. Making small talk with people that Carmilla neither knows nor cares for as she waits for mother to pick her target.

It’s her job to be the bait, draw the unsuspecting victim in and then get them away to somewhere where they won’t be found or heard. Of course then the poor sap is all mother’s and Carmilla’s job is done. But the way she smiles at her, all sharp teeth and heated gaze, is enough.

“Good girl”

It isn’t much but it’s enough. And Carmilla _lives_ for it.

She knows it’s a bad habit, an unhealthy kind of infatuation to hold, her rabid craving for validation will only come back to bite her one day. But she can’t help it. The woman has a hold over her like nothing else, she is far, far too powerful to ever go up against and Carmilla just knows that she could never walk away of her own volition. Back then, she didn’t even want to.

Carmilla would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy it all. She knows that she did, and so does mother. For a long time it all gave her a certain kind of thrill, the hunt, the kill, the reward.

But as the years wore on the blood ran stale and times changed. After her decades of penance locked away in the coffin, years spent with lungs filled with rotten blood and rotting away herself in the cold of the dead earth, mother’s dance lost its appeal. So Carmilla runs.

Runs from the battlefields and the bloodshed that soaks the soil there and just keeps running. Off to make her own history, without mother. She goes to see all of the cities that she never could before. The new wonders of the twentieth century and all of the other things that Carmilla had once longed to see and to experience that mother would never allow.

Mother always said that history is written by the victors. Carmilla thinks that now freed from mother’s shackles for the first time in decades, perhaps even centuries, she is the victor at last. She writes her own story.


	4. Rivalry

_4\. Rivalry_

Will is a whiny little shit. Carmilla has known this since the moment they first met. Paris, 1954, just after mother found her. She doesn’t have William with her the first time, when Carmilla looks up from her morning coffee one day to see mother’s icy eyes looking down at her. Cold sneer ever present and barely even surprised that here sits the daughter she confined to her tomb years ago.

She doesn’t meet William until a few weeks later. A ball that mother invites (commands) her to attend, one of many that Carmilla has endured in her life in the name of pleasing mother. This is when she comes face to face with her new baby brother for the first time. Simpering, whining, kiss ass Will who hangs on mother’s every word and just doesn’t know when to leave Carmilla _be_.

Carmilla spends the night making eyes at and eventually flirting with a pretty young thing in a blue silk dress who’s all golden hair and golden smiles. The good wine and the pleasing view are the only things that make the whole night bearable.

So when she returns to her new friend with a half-smile beginning to curl up around her lips and two glasses of wine in hand to find smarmy, sleazy Will whispering in the girl’s ear and grinning a wide smile that is all teeth, she loses it.

Wine forgotten and propriety be damned she’s beside the man (boy she sneers with a flick of her gaze up and down him) and glaring daggers. If looks alone could kill then William would be stone dead by now, or at least deader than he already is. She snarls around barely hidden teeth and yanks the slimeball’s hand away from where it is coiled around the girl’s shoulder. The girl who is incidentally now looking between the two of them with a mixture of fear and complete confusion.

Carmilla opens her mouth to snap something at the boy, a warning to take his greasy little hands of what isn’t his but before she utters a word she falters as she feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a cold wave washes over her.

Mother’s voice cuts in, sharp as cut glass and she can feel the woman’s very presence looming behind her. She says something faux sweetly in perfect French to the now practically quaking girl that has her scampering away from them and back to the dance.

Mother introduces the boy as William with a steely smirk at Carmilla. Carmilla hears the silent message loud and clear. _Your replacement._ Will, for his part is still smiling that smug grin, all adoring eyes at mother and poorly hidden mockery at Carmilla. She wants nothing more than to smack the grin off of his face. And then perhaps the head from his shoulders.

Mother seems not to notice, or not to care, for the obvious animosity that is already welling up between the two not moments after meeting for the first time. Instead she places one perfectly pale hand on either of their shoulders, grip unyielding and fingernails digging in sharp.

“Now. Play nicely children. Or you will both regret it” she says, her tone dripping with ice and an undercurrent of ever-present danger. The warning is clear to them both.

With another silky smile and an arched brow she glides away from them, back in to the throng of people to bat her lashes and charm her way through half the ballroom. Carmilla and Will grimace at one another. Will with his cocky sneer that seems to actually be the way his face just naturally falls and Carmilla hardly bothering to disguise her distaste for the boy before they both fall into step together and follow mother.

 


End file.
